


Undercover

by littlematchkid (bravepress)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Body Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravepress/pseuds/littlematchkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mask is inconvenient but necessary. With it on he has a little more protection from knives, from the cold, from recognition. With it on he isn't able to scream. </p>
<p>It’s practical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> For [this](http://maskonplz.livejournal.com/507.html?thread=1531#t1531) prompt at the masked ficathon. 
> 
> Don't look at me like that.

"You've gotta take it off to eat," Steve says.

Sunlight's splashing across the table. Birds are singing. There are four exquisitely sharpened knives within reach of Bucky's left hand. It's not a bad morning, all in all, except for how this is the sixth time today Steve has asked him to take the mask off.

He shrugs. He's not hungry yet. It's been less than 24 hours since he was last fed. "You weren't whining about it coming off when we-"

There's that flush again. Steve goes red when he's flustered. He also goes red when someone sucks his dick, or when Bucky fucks him hard enough to take his breath away. A lot of things happened last night that made him turn that color.

Anyway.

"I don't want it off." It isn't a lie, exactly; the mask is inconvenient but necessary. It muffles his voice, makes his vowels a little more clipped than they used to be. With it on he has a little more protection from knives, from the cold, from recognition. With it on he isn't able to scream. It's practical.

 

 

 

He remembers a cold cement floor and cryo fluid dripping from his hair. He doesn't remember waking up before that, but he remembers already having a mask strapped to his face. The edges burned his skin, searing and freezing all at once. The handlers asked his status and he could only nod. His face felt too raw to speak.

 

 

 

Steve's cooking starts to smell better and better. He thinks (he isn't sure that he can say he  _remembers_ , really). Bucky's not sure how he's supposed to eat. The handler had a thin tube that he dropped into Bucky's stomach, and an i.v. for when even that was too hard on his body. He's pretty sure Steve doesn't have one, but isn't sure how to ask. It seems like something that might upset him. 

And Steve does start to voice his concern about it. Bucky lies easily, and says he's been eating when he's asked about it. He begins to leave food wrappers in the trashcan for reasons he can't explain. It gives him cover. It'll make Steve worry less. He microwaves plates of leftovers and leaves the half-cleaned dishes in the drying rack after tossing the food out of the bedroom window.

It's better this way. He tugs at the mask while Steve's in the shower. It doesn't budge.

He'll figure it out.

 

 

 

They sleep in the same bed and Bucky finds that it's good to have a warm body next to him. When Steve drifts off to sleep he'll lean over to kiss Bucky's forehead. It feels kind and familiar, in a way that's almost uncomfortable. 

 

 

 

Day six without food and Bucky can't leave the couch for the way his stomach cramps up. Once Steve has left for a run he stumbles to the bathroom and kicks the door shut behind him. 

He gets his fingertips under the edge of the mask without a problem, just enough to pull one of the straps away from his skin. There's no give anywhere else. For the first time it feels oppressive, a thick layer of plastic and leather against his face. 

He needs to have it off before Steve gets home. He's never felt this kind of hunger before, and his body is starting to malfunction because of it. He should have grabbed some kind of tool from the kitchen, one of his knives or-

Or alternatively, there's a safety razor on the lip of the bathtub. 

 

 

 

Steve finds him hunched over the sink. There's a lot of blood. Bucky has the mask almost all the way off of one cheek, and is working something sharp under it across the bridge of his nose.

There's a  _lot_ of blood. Steve catches Bucky around the waist and tosses the dismantled razor into the bathtub. He puts pressure on the side of Bucky's face and ignores the way Bucky flinches and whimpers. 

"You're okay." Bucky isn't fighting back, which is worrisome. His movements are weaker than Steve would have expected. He's still shifting slightly. "Be  _still,_ c'mon."

 

 

 

It hurts. It hurts badly, and it's difficult to keep from sinking down into blackness. Bucky is dizzy and his fingers keep moving to grab the edge of the mask, to peel it away, but Steve catches his hand and settles it down by his side.

Steve's voice goes hard and sharp and Bucky eases down into the knowledge that he's supposed to obey. Steve will fix this. 

 

 


End file.
